Part 66 (2/2)
”You know the currents. Will they--will he--”
He faltered and paused, waiting his brother's reply, and the three officers of the law shuddered, as, after a few minutes' silence, broken only by a groan from the kneeling man, George Vine cried in a piteous voice that sounded wild and thrilling in the solemn darkness of the night:
”G.o.d help me! Oh, my son, my son!”
”Quick, mind! Good heavens, sir! Another step and--”
The detective had caught the stricken father as he tottered and would have fallen headlong into the tide, while, as he and another of the men helped him back to where Louise still lay, he was insensible to what pa.s.sed around.
But still the dim lights could be seen growing more and more distant, and each hail sounded more faint, as the occupants of the boats called to each other, and then to him they sought, while, after each shout, it seemed to those who stood straining their eyes at the end of the pier, that there was an answering cry away to their left; but it was only the faint echo repeating the call from the face of the stupendous cliffs behind the town.
”Why don't they come back here and search?” cried the officer angrily.
”What for?” said a voice at his elbow; and he turned to see dimly the shrunken, haggard face of Uncle Luke.
”What for?” retorted the officer. ”He may have swum in the other direction.”
”So might the world have rolled in the other direction, and the sun rise to-morrow in the west,” said the old man angrily. ”No swimmer could stem that current.”
”But why have they gone so far?”
”They have gone where the current took them,” said Uncle Luke, coldly.
”Want the help of your men to get these poor creatures home.”
The detective made no reply, but stood gazing out to sea and listening intently. Then turning to his men--
”One of you keep watch here in case they try to land with him. You come with me.”
The two policemen followed his instructions, one taking his place at the extreme end of the point, the other following just as voices were heard, and a group of fishermen, who had been awakened to the fact that there was something wrong, came down the rocky breakwater.
”Here, some of you, I want a boat--a swift boat, and four men to pull.
Ah, you!”
This to a couple of the coastguard who had put in an appearance, and after a few hurried words one party went toward the head of the breakwater, while another, full of sympathy for the Vines, went on to the end of the point.
There was plenty of willing help, but George Vine had now recovered from his swoon, and rose up to refuse all offers of a.s.sistance.
”No, Luke,” he said more firmly now; ”I must stay.”
”But our child, Louise?”
”She must stay with me.”
Louise had risen to her feet as he spoke, and clung to his arm in mute acquiescence; and once more they stood watching the star-spangled sea.
Ten minutes later a well-manned boat pa.s.sed out of the harbour, with the detective officer in her bows and a couple of the strongest lights they could obtain.
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